Pyromania Grammatica
shezagodds
Published
11/19/2010
A rare thing happened to me this morning. I became truly outraged. I usually keep a cool head and act like a duck, letting things roll off of my back. Not this morning. This morning I got teeth grinding, red faced, eyes bulging pissed.
I got stuck in the Mickey D's drive thru line for 20 minutes this morning. Curbs and shrubbery on either side of my car, I was unable to escape the fumes from the jacked up truck which heaved it's last worldly breaths in said drive thru (it must have given a last ditch effort in cutting in front of me just as I had pulled in, then, Captain, that was all she had). I was trapped in the mesmerizing acne patterns on the face of the youth who shouted obscenities at the rust bucket in the hopes that her engine would smooth over and her tailpipe would silence it's awful firing sound. It wouldn't. So there I sat, anxious about running late, starving for a number 14, and HATING Appalachia's buttfucked, ass-to-mouth-wayward, caddy-wompus values system.
No, it is not that the kid's car died. I've owned shit boxes from hell too. It wasn't his acne or the string of obscenities coming out of his mouth. I cuss like a sailor and everyone close to me knows not to show up with a pimple unless they are ready to be squeezed unmercifully. It's gross yet extremely fun. It wasn't even the act of cutting in front of me and making me hit my breaks just as I pulled into the drive thru. I have seen true cruelty and that shit doesn't even compare. What made me want to jump out of my minivan and sock this low life Junior Prick of America was merely a bumper sticker.
For starters, the sticker was a Confederate flag. I know many of you think this is a harmless expression of Southern/Redneck pride, but I find it grossly offensive. That flag represents an era of oppression and cruelty that tore apart families, murdered babies, exploited children, and basically flipped the middle finger at inherent human rights. African Americans have a right to be pissed off because of shit like that just as Jews would have a right to be pissed if their neighbors or children's classmates sported I Heart Auschwitz T-shirts. And since I am tolerant of just about anything but intolerance, I am pissed too.
But wait...there's a silver lining. As I am shaking my head, asking myself why karma had to bite this fucker on the ass while I am stuck behind him and now running late, I see it. BIG CAPITOL LETTERS under the flag, a bold statement. So bold, in fact, that the manufacturer saw no need to pussify it with an oh-so-necessary comma :
BURN THIS ASSHOLE!
Okay! Now we're talking!
I'm Sheza and I want to borrow your lighter for just a sec.
I got stuck in the Mickey D's drive thru line for 20 minutes this morning. Curbs and shrubbery on either side of my car, I was unable to escape the fumes from the jacked up truck which heaved it's last worldly breaths in said drive thru (it must have given a last ditch effort in cutting in front of me just as I had pulled in, then, Captain, that was all she had). I was trapped in the mesmerizing acne patterns on the face of the youth who shouted obscenities at the rust bucket in the hopes that her engine would smooth over and her tailpipe would silence it's awful firing sound. It wouldn't. So there I sat, anxious about running late, starving for a number 14, and HATING Appalachia's buttfucked, ass-to-mouth-wayward, caddy-wompus values system.
No, it is not that the kid's car died. I've owned shit boxes from hell too. It wasn't his acne or the string of obscenities coming out of his mouth. I cuss like a sailor and everyone close to me knows not to show up with a pimple unless they are ready to be squeezed unmercifully. It's gross yet extremely fun. It wasn't even the act of cutting in front of me and making me hit my breaks just as I pulled into the drive thru. I have seen true cruelty and that shit doesn't even compare. What made me want to jump out of my minivan and sock this low life Junior Prick of America was merely a bumper sticker.
For starters, the sticker was a Confederate flag. I know many of you think this is a harmless expression of Southern/Redneck pride, but I find it grossly offensive. That flag represents an era of oppression and cruelty that tore apart families, murdered babies, exploited children, and basically flipped the middle finger at inherent human rights. African Americans have a right to be pissed off because of shit like that just as Jews would have a right to be pissed if their neighbors or children's classmates sported I Heart Auschwitz T-shirts. And since I am tolerant of just about anything but intolerance, I am pissed too.
But wait...there's a silver lining. As I am shaking my head, asking myself why karma had to bite this fucker on the ass while I am stuck behind him and now running late, I see it. BIG CAPITOL LETTERS under the flag, a bold statement. So bold, in fact, that the manufacturer saw no need to pussify it with an oh-so-necessary comma :
BURN THIS ASSHOLE!
Okay! Now we're talking!
I'm Sheza and I want to borrow your lighter for just a sec.
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